Busy with speaking with a tongue of fire,
I don't take the time to watch the world around me
and seem almost surprised to see things burning.
I don't even know when to shut my mouth
and could care less that I'm killing others.

The only time my soul feels is in the pain.
I only hear when I stop and stand still and hold my heart in my hand.
The sins of my past are a mountain,
a burning pyre putrid with the smell of ego
and self worship.